Chapter 650 - 302: A Future Forced to Bow

"When the time comes, you’ll lose more than just the bill."

"You’ll lose the last shred of your dignity as Speaker."

Kaufman slumped into his chair.

He looked at the sunlight outside the window, but all he felt was a chill run through him.

His final line of defense, the one he took such pride in—judicial independence—was as fragile as a sheet of paper in the face of Leo’s naked threat of the ballot box.

This young man had seen through to the essence of the system.

In the United States, all power ultimately comes from votes.

Since judges are also elected, they can be threatened. They can be bought.

Separation of powers, judicial checks and balances...

They were all just window dressing in the face of an overwhelming tide of public opinion.

"You... you’re destroying the very foundation of the rule of law."

Kaufman’s voice was weak, laced with a helpless accusation.

"You’re turning judges into pawns for politicians, and the courtroom into a marketplace."

"The rule of law?"

Leo sneered.

"When Arthur Vance used legal loopholes to deny compensation, where was the rule of law?"

"When those pharmaceutical companies use patent law to monopolize life-saving drugs, where is the rule of law?"

"When you politicians use procedural rules to lock a life-saving bill away in a drawer, where is the rule of law then?"

Leo leaned forward, planting his hands on the desk and glaring at Kaufman.

"Don’t talk to me about lofty words."

"The rules are simple now."

"I have money, I have people, and I have votes."

"I can even control whether judges stay or go."

"So, this bill is legal, and it must be legal."

"Because I say it’s legal."

Leo reached out and pointed at the bill on the table.

"Robert, you know what I mean."

"You can tell your donors you did your best, that the judicial environment was just too hostile."

"You can tell your constituents you secured infrastructure projects for them."

"That’s the only way you get to walk away with your dignity."

Kaufman stared at the bill on the desk.

The few sheets of paper felt as heavy as lead.

Kaufman’s hand trembled as he picked up the bill.

"Leo."

Kaufman looked up at the terrifying young man.

"You’re going to hell."

"You’ve turned this state into a monstrosity. You’ve concentrated all the power in your own hands."

"One day, you’ll pay the price for this."

Leo’s expression was impassive.

"Perhaps."

"But before that, I’ll first build a heaven on earth."

"Even if I have to use the Demon’s methods."

Kaufman gave a bitter smile.

He watched Leo’s back as he turned and walked toward the door. In that moment, the young man’s figure exuded an oppressive aura that made it impossible to look at him directly.

However, Kaufman’s instincts as a politician were still frantically digging for a way out amidst the ruins.

He had been in Harrisburg politics for decades and had seen countless careers rise from the dead.

He knew perfectly well that the legislators in the assembly hall were scared witless by the votes and data Leo held. Proposing an amendment from within the legislature to "split the bill" would be suicide.

No one would dare press the red button on their voting machine that would invite a siege from their constituents.

He still needed to seek external judicial power.

His eyes were glued to the two documents on the desk that had been forcibly bundled together.

A plan to extricate himself quickly formed in his mind.

’If I can find the right judge and initiate a judicial review the moment the bill passes... As long as the judge can rule the healthcare portion unconstitutional while preserving the ten-billion-dollar infrastructure bill on grounds of "public interest," then the logic works out perfectly.’

’I can protect the business of the construction companies and energy giants, give the insurance companies a perfect explanation, and spare the judges from facing the voters’ threats directly.’

’As long as the infrastructure money comes through, the capitalists won’t revolt. As for the fiscal balance issue Leo threatened me with, that’s next year’s problem. I can smooth it over with some creative accounting.’

It was an ugly move, but it was his last defense as Speaker, and the last straw he could grasp to maintain his political credibility.

Kaufman’s hand reached for the phone on his desk.

He had already decided which old friend on the state Supreme Court to call. He had even figured out the bargaining chips he would use.

The moment that call was made, a steel rod named "Judicial Interpretation" would be wedged between the two closing millstones.

He picked up the receiver, his thumb hovering over the first number on the keypad.

"We’re not done yet, Mr. Speaker."

Leo’s voice came from the doorway.

He hadn’t left. His hand was on the doorknob, his head turned slightly, his gaze precisely catching the movement of Kaufman’s hand.

Leo’s voice rang out again.

"I know what you’re thinking."

Leo looked at the phone in Kaufman’s hand.

"You want to split the bill. You want to eat the meat but not take the medicine."

"Am I right?"

Kaufman froze and put the phone down.

"What are you talking about?"

"It’s certainly a viable legislative procedure."

Leo let go of the doorknob and walked back to the desk.

"But you seem to have forgotten one very basic thing."

Leo placed his hands on the back of the chair, looking at the old politician who was trying to find a lifeline in the cracks of the rules.

"The legislature is responsible for appropriations and approving the budget. The Constitution grants you that power."

"But who’s responsible for spending the money?"

"Who’s responsible for auditing the project’s progress?"

Leo pointed to his own chest.

"I am."

"I am the chairman of the Industrial Revival Alliance. I’m the one who controls the final allocation of those ten billion."

"And William Saint Cloud."